Never Again
by nychnymph
Summary: A demigod's life isn't easy and Percy Jackson is drowning in his own rage and rebellion against the cosmic forces that took so much from him. Annabeth Chase is the only one who can save him and ultimately prevent the true fall of Olympus. -Dark!Percy/ Percabeth


**I am plunging into angst writing head first! This was posted as prompt for tumblr, and its interesting enough, I think, for me to post here!**

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_**Never Again**_

The effects of Tartarus could kill any demigod. Like the underworld of Hades, it was a place that would ruin you, but Tartarus was in its own league. The glimpse was after Percy fought the goddess Akhlys. It wasn't Annabeth's first glance at his rage, but it was the clearest. The heavy breathing, the stiffness in his shoulders and the dark, stormy glint in his eyes when he looked up at her. She had always been on his side, but in that single instant she felt what it was like to not be on his side. To be his enemy.

Percy had never been the type to completely conform to the gods' will. When Kronos had come to him so often in the last great prophecy and taunted him with freedom from doing the gods' dirty work, Annabeth knew that he would never partner with Kronos but she also knew how sweet that sounded to him. No demigod wants to become a pawn, but no demigod can deny the world when it needs help so crucially. No one wants to be the one person that doesn't help, doesn't protect. It was almost a fatal flaw of all demigods. It lend them to do the work of evil, like Luke or Ethan, when they thought that the good the world needed was destroying the gods and siding with Kronos. So many before had been lend astray, but this was different. The blistering rage in Percy's eyes was fierce that it felt like with one blink he could bring the gods and the titans crashing down to their knees. And it scared her.

A need for power could be easily and swiftly corrupted because when one needs power, they are weak. But when they originally hold power, the corruption is different. It starts slow, built upon by the egging of the thoughts that whisper in the middle of the night and supported by rage. When Tartarus was far behind them, Annabeth did anything and everything to make excuses. The dark gleam was only there because of the lack of light, the burst of power was just adrenaline, and the lack of realizing what he did was terrible beyond words was just... Percy caught in the moment. He did that often, it seemed like a perfect excuse, but this wasn't something that stayed behind in Akhlys' poison meadows.

It was present in the way Percy didn't say much about how he was feeling to her anymore. It was present in the time he took to think, and the darker ways he fought. He started fighting dirty, and it was most evident on the hill of Camp Half-Blood during the heat of the battle against Gaea's forces. His dark, indifferent look when he learned the fate of Octavian, the way his eyes scanned the dead with angry that practically sizzled in his eyes. She could feel the rage rolling off of him when they hugged after the vigil, the tightness of his palms against her back. "They didn't have to die." He hissed lowly, into her hair. Annabeth knew that. The gods had led them to bury so many of their friends once again that her eyes had to keep moving in order for her to avoid breaking into tears.

None of them had to die. The forces that once held the world in balance, the forces that created the world had so little respect for those lesser that Percy's rage was almost contagious. But it was deadly. When they pulled back, and she watched him disappear into Cabin 3, she wanted so much to go to Rachel and Chiron.

But this was Percy's burden, and therefore hers as well. Annabeth would not let fate devour Percy Jackson and turn him fully into the darkness he was becoming. The nightmares of her dreams only conformed her suspicions. Images of twisted cruelty embodied as dark sludge waves, hitting so hard they eroded all in their path. The faint body of Percy Jackson becoming all but a feeding ground for his rage to become stronger. He would bring Olympus to the ground, not with Kronos or Gaea as his aid, but with himself. And in the aftermath, he would be weak after his consumption. A mere remnant so faint that when the grief washed over him after he destroyed everything he hated and everything he loved as a result, he would waste away. The son of Poseidon drowning in his own rage. It was enough to wake her up several nights, tears streaming down her face as she gripped anything and everything to keep her stable to the ground. Malcolm and her siblings could hear her, she knew that, but they never moved to help. They were wise enough to know this was her struggle to conquer.

Everything in her body screamed at her to save him. The guilt of failing to save Luke when he needed her ricocheted back into her mind. If she failed to save Percy too, she would never forgive herself, up to the second that his rage killed her too.

The few weeks after the battle were the hardest for everybody. But it would only get harder if she couldn't act. So the night before they were to leave, Annabeth slipped away from Cabin 6. In the moonlight, Camp Half-Blood looked serene. The leaves and dirt crunched under her shoes as she slowly crossed the grounds to Cabin 3. The door wasn't locked, just as she made sure earlier that day, and she entered in silently. Percy was awake, and jumped when he saw her.

"Shit," he breathed, standing up from his bunk, "you scared me, Annabeth." That almost made her smile, the glimmer of the old Percy. But the second after, he fell back to dark eyes and sharp attentive movements. "Sorry." Her voice felt foreign as she stepped further into the cabin.

He reached for her and touched her arm. Little electric shots ran up her skin, and she felt numb. "You need to come with me," she took a deep breath and stepped away from his touch.

Percy looked about to argue but she shook her hand and led him out of the cabin. When Percy was with her, the dark camp looked just a bit warmer in greeting as if it was saying hello to a rowdy demigod couple out to make out in the woods. Instead of the woods, she led him to the lake.

The naiads had scattered long ago, but Annabeth could see the shimmering figures beyond the trees. She didn't know what they were, but it was no time to dwell. When they reached the edge of the water, she turned back to him. He was staring straight back at her.

Without saying anything, she took off her shirt. Next went her shoes and shorts, until she stood in a tank top and her underwear. Percy didn't say anything, but his cheeks were red. "You too." She murmured and motioned for him to undress as well.

He did, after a couple seconds of hesitation. They stood there, in their underwear on the shore of the lake for a few minutes until Annabeth felt it. The tug in her stomach as the moon fully washed over the lake's still surface. "Annabeth," Percy started, "What's going on?"

His eyes shined in the moonlight, a shade lighter than they were before. "Wait here." She said instead of answering and took a step in the water. It was freezing, and sent shivers up her spine, but she kept walking until the water billowed around her chest. Then she turned around and motioned for him to follow. When Percy stood in front of her in the water, it only went up to his ribs. His eyes followed her every movement closely.

In the middle of the night in the lake, she made the three-clawed gesture to ward off evil and directed it to Percy. He opened his mouth; eyebrows furrowed in confusion but froze when she threw her arms around his neck.

The skin of his neck was warmer than hers, but his torso against her wet tank top felt just as cold, as if the son of Poseidon's powers were clamping up inside of him. "What's…? Annabeth," He started, trying to pull back, "what happened? Why are we here?"

She dug her nails into his muscles and if he wasn't used to it, he probably would've winced. "Percy," She said to his shoulder, staring at the shore with watery eyes, "Let go."

There was a pause for Percy spoke up again, even more confused, "What?"

Annabeth tried not to tremble at what she was asking for him to do. She knew it was risky, but there was no way she could leave him. Just like he said to her before they fell into Tartarus together, he wasn't getting away from her either. And she would never let him turn himself into something he would despise. "You need to let go," She pulled back just enough to look at his face, "I need to keep you grounded, right here, but if you keep everything inside then you're going to do something, Percy…something really bad. I've seen it, ever since Tartarus. I know you're not alright, you have to face it and you need to let go."

For a while he never responded, and then it suddenly felt like the world was crashing down on them. The storm that he let loose was so powerful that she would've been ripped away if he hadn't clutched her around the waist and tightened every time he yelled. The water around them spiraled into tall columns of pure force and erupted in explosions of wind and water spray. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, and her body ached. His teeth clashed against her neck as he let everything loose, his shoulders lifting and his forearms squeezing her to him so tightly she was almost afraid she'd implode.

Percy's midsection warmed, as if the coil of tightened energy was unraveling, and as quickly as the storm had come, it subsided. The water of the lake fell in millions of raindrops back to the ground, but sprinkled nowhere else but the limits of the lake itself. The shimmering white figures in the trees were gone when she opened her eyes again, and a gentle breeze blew across the surface of the now silent lake.

Percy kept his head against her shoulder, and she tried to still his trembling by petting his hair. Both of them were soaked to the core, so the hot tears that ran from his cheeks to her shoulder were the only things she could really feel. "I know you're angry," She told him, "but you can't let it control you."

They stood there for hours until she led him back to Cabin 3. He slept soundly, the first time in a while, with his arm around her waist. She stayed awake the entire night, her fingers gently threading through his hair, waiting for anything to come and try to take her Percy away from her. She would never let him get away from her. Never again.

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**Protective Annabeth and broken/dark Percy is a very nice pairing to write!**  
**Also Percy crying... ****I might have a thing for it hehe**  
**R&amp;R! Love you all!**


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